


if you're the one to run

by brokennbutterfly



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dialogue Heavy, Kayfabe Compliant, M/M, Post-Battleground 2016, Swearing, i had to split it in two parts bc it got ridiculously LONG, i just had a lot of feelings and put it into writing, idk what dis, lots of it bc it me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-04-22 17:38:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14313792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokennbutterfly/pseuds/brokennbutterfly
Summary: Loser buys the beers, Roman had said, not too long ago. After Battleground, it was no different. Only this time, there's someone else waiting for them at the bar and Dean's somewhat forced to face reality.Or, my take after Battleground 2016.





	1. if you're the one to run, to run

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bulletwithbutterflywings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bulletwithbutterflywings/gifts).



> WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?????? IDK BUT I LOVE THESE TWO SO I'MMA KEEP PRODUCING UGLY STUFF FOR THEM. bear with me tho. don't be mean. i'm just a weak ass shipper learning english everyday. PS i love three days grace

Winning the WWE World Heavyweight championship back in July felt like the ultimate success, but there was something profound and even magnificent in retaining the gold against Seth Rollins and Roman Reigns. They're his brothers—despite Rollins' genius idea of turning his back on them in 2014, Dean always felt like he was his brother. Friends, enemies, lovers, they come and go—brothers? For some reason, they're always brothers.

Roman doesn't knock the door when he enters Dean's locker room to congratulate him personally, telling him how much he deserves the gold, over and over, increasing Dean's happines immensely.

"I won't say that I didn't want to get it," he notes, sitting in one of the steel chairs, looking worn off. Dean smiles all along—he's been smiling for hours now. "But I'm happy you retained," he adds then, returning a big smile.

"Thanks, bro," Dean doesn't know what else to say because he's too euphoric.

There's a brief silence. Dean can't take his eyes off the belt and Roman stares at him with fondness, a small smile flashing in his face. 

"I lost."

Dean raises his head at Roman's sudden acknowledgement and squints at him, asking, "what's on your mind, big dog?"

Roman stretches on the steel chair, a mischeavous expression on his face, and then he stands on his feet, stretching a bit more, testing Dean's patience in the process. "Loser buy the beers," he finally reminds him.

It was always like that. From the very beginning, back in the FCW, when they became friends. Not too close, but Dean only talked to two people at the back and Roman had the same, let's say, "problem". Loser buy the beers. Dean remembers now that he's bought beers to Roman a couple of times. Now it's his turn and he's fucking excited to have free beers.

"Lemme hit the showers and then we go," Dean tells him, as he walks into the showers.

//

They talked about the match on their way to the bar—trying not to mention Seth because Roman knew that it was a very sensitive topic for Dean—mostly, they were blaming each other for certain spots in which they'd hurted each other by accident, and other stuffs. Nothing too serious. They joke around and laugh.

But then, he had to ask _the_ question and Dean re-thinks about what he'd thought of Roman at some point.

"Have you, uh, thought about... that..."

Dean grimmaces and pretends he doesn't know what's Roman talking about, not daring to make eye contact. "Dunno what you mean."

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, bro," Roman stops him in his track with stretching arm. "I saw the way you looked at each other. I was hurt and really hurt, but my vision was working pretty well, Dean-o."

Dean sighs, grumbling a, "I jus'... don't wanna talk about it, OK?" before continuing.

Seth was leaning on the commentary table, looking aesthetically appealing in his eyes.

Dean could've attacked him in that moment and with Roman out, he could've Dirty Deed'd him and finished the match once and for all—what's better than pinning your nemesis in a triple threat match with your brothers? But Dean walked coser and he stared at him, and it felt like old times.

It felt like old times in which he'd only look at him and they'd talk to each other with their eyes. Like old times in which he'd know that they'd both end up in a locker room, Seth against one of the lockers and Dean feeling every inch of his skin against his.

Moans all around. Seth repeating his name, over and over. Leaning his forehead against his and staring at his lips, as Seth needingly tries to kiss him.

Dean hasn't been able to forget about the old times. He knows he should live in the present and move on, but knowing that Seth is out there professing his hatred towards him was doing bad things to his mind. The worst part of it is, Dean believes he can't move on or forget what happened between Seth and him—everybody knows he's sensitive, but not everybody knows that his feelings towards Seth are much more than simply being 'sensitive'. It digs deeper.

They walk in silence; Roman doesn't ask him about Seth again, not even vaguely.

It's only when they arrive that Dean hits the reality wall.

//

Seth knows many things about Dean Ambrose.

He knows he loves fries. He knows he prefers to spend the night listening to jazz or old bands, and watching movies rather than to go outside. He knows that the leather jacket he usually wears was a gift from his mother and that he takes care of it like it's his most precious gift, which it is. He knows he's got nightmares—that's something only Roman and Seth know. He knows that when he's got bad days, he put on music so that he can distract himself; if it doesn't help, he goes to a bar. When bar isn't an option because of alcohol, he locks himself up in the bathroom.

Seth isn't sure why Dean is here, but he's here and that's all that matters

Roman enters first and then Dean follows suit, and Seth suddenly feels like he's got his heart on his throat. It's not until Dean locks his eyes on him that his heart starts beating so fast that he can't keep up, so he turns around and keeps on drinking, closing his eyes in a poor attempt to relieve stress.

So many times. So many times he's done this. He's come to a bar, waiting for Dean to appear so that they could talk. He's thought about possible scenarios, including a bar fight, and he'd thought he was ready to confront him, but his hand is trembling and the bartender raises his eyebrows at him and he realizes he's not. He's not ready.

He never was ready for this.

"Are you ok?" a voice asks, quite concerned.

The first thought that goes across his mind is how the bartender realized something was wrong.

Seth nods frantically, "yes, thank you."

No, he's not.

He wants to know what they're doing, he needs to see it. The feeling to turn around and see what Roman and Dean are doing is stronger than him, so he ends up doing it like the idiot everyone knows he is and if he was scared before, then now he wants the earth to swallow him whole. 

Roman is here, standing right before him, and he's the first to greet Seth, because they've been in contact lately. It wasn't the case with Dean, unfortunately. Last meetings with Dean hadn't been good, actually, and it's Seth's fault.

"Hey, man," the way Roman smiles and sits next to him got Seth towards the edge, and for a second, he has no idea what to say or do. Dean takes the seat next to Roman, as far from Seth as possible. "What brings you here?"

Yes, it's surprising, he knows—he doesn't go to bars so often. Not as often as Dean and Roman do, anyway. Truth is, the reason was sitting right next to Roman.

"Just having a few drinks," Seth answers, smiling sheepishly. His eyes darts to Dean, who's asking for beers and Roman of course notes it.

He doesn't look OK, for someone who's just beaten him and Roman for the WWE championship. Seth knows they're the best in the business and he should be happy, celebrating, excited. But he isn't or he doesn't look like it.

If Seth's the one causing this, why are they here? There are tons of free tables at the bar.

"He'll be fine," Roman mutters. Seth can only sigh in response, because he knows it isn't true.

They don't speak for a while and it's unnerving. Seth starts drinking his glass of beer more quickly, like he wants to get drunk as soon as possible so he can deal with this. It isn't enough, so he starts moving his legs, watch the people around—something, _something_ had to distract him.

Dean and Roman get their beer and they talk to each other for a minute or two, as if Seth isn't there at all (Roman barely pointed at him, but Dean just wasn't into it and changed topics), until Roman's cellphone rings.

"It's Galina," he says, as he stands up. He glares at them both, saying, "be nice to each other and don't drink my beer—hey, love," and then he walks away.

Dean's grimmace turns into a bitter chuckle. " _Be nice to each other_ ," he imitates Roman's voice, harshly, and Seth is offended for a second. "As if I could."

He's not looking at him. He's not even noticing his presence. Seth doesn't know what he did wrong just now—yes, he knows what he did wrong in the past, but he can't change that. He can't travel to the past and make better decisions. He can't tell his young-self that he isn't a failure and that his brothers love him regardless, that they aren't going to leave them behind.

He wishes he could, though. But now, there's only this; utter bitterness, a beer and a draft that is about to seperate them both, so why can't just Dean say something?

Seth bites the inside of his cheek. He knows he shouldn't do this. He knows. But... it's either he's drank enough or everything is crap so he's got nothing to lose, so he does it anyway—he jumps on Roman's chair, causing Dean to almost spit his beer out.

"What d'ya wa—

"We need to talk," Seth's words come out firmly, because if he's being honest, he's got nothing to lose. He's scared as fuck, yes, and also he's got his heart on his throat again, and he wants to fucking disappear right now; but at least he's doing something about it.

Dean stares at him for a moment, his expression changing from confused to funny. Then, he chuckles. Like he's having fun with it.

"Dea—

"Don't," Dean says softly, as he raises a finger. He takes a sip of his beer before reminding him, "don't call me Dean. We've been past that, Rollins."

_Rollins._

Seth literally wants to punch him in the face for that. So it's now or never, before he regrets sitting on Roman's seat.

"Listen, what I did was wrong," Seth states. "I had no idea what the Authority was. I was scared and weak. Mostly, I was insecure."

"Insecure of what, exactly?" Dean turns around swiftly, suddenly nose-to-nose with him.

"About everything," he replies, sighing. He feels free, for once. "About us. About us as a team and about _us_ , Dean. I felt like I was always left behind and I knew I could do better, I kne—

"That you were an asshole?" Dean accuses. Seth leans back, his heart hammering against his chest strongly. "Is that what you mean?"

Seth rolls his eyes, wondering how long they were going to have to do this. "I didn't kno—

"You didn't know what?!"

"That it would end up like this!" and once again, Seth feels free. More than before now.

It doesn't matter that the bartender is staring at them both like they're being too loud or if people have an eye on them. He just doesn't care. He only have eyes for Dean Ambrose and ears for Dean Ambrose. "I didn't us to end up like this at all, OK? What I did was wrong and I'm sorry. I'm sorry that it ended up like this."

"You're... sorry?" Dean laughs again. "Doesn't look like it."

"I can't say I regret joining the Authority," Seth can see it feels like a slap in the face for Dean. "They did everything they said they were gonna do. But I deeply regret how everything ended up between us. How we fell apart. That was... was not part of the plan, but you were in the wa—

"You could've told us," Dean interrupts, "You could've told us that you wanted to fly solo, Seth."

"It wasn't easy. They wanted you two out of their way, so I couldn't."

Dean's perpetually done with him, it seems, as he stands up from his seat, but Seth can't let him go like this. He can't let Dean go now that they're talking. Almost instinctively, Seth stands on his feet and grabs Dean's wrist firmly. Dean shakes it off, like it burns.

Seth falls to pieces.

"Hear me out, please," he begs.

Dean stares at him dead in the eye. "I don't want to."

"I'm sorry, Dean, I swear if I could, I'd take everything back. But I can't."

Dean walks away and disappears to the bathroom. Seth shakes his head before turning on his heel and following him, getting there just in time to close the door and grabs his wrist to turn him around.

"Seth, I swear to God—

"Tell me what I should do."

"What?"

"Tell me what I should do," Seth repeats. "I swear. Tell me what I should do to get you to trust me again. I'd do anything."

Dean scoffs, "I'm sorry, princess, there's nothing you can do."

 _Princess_. That's something, Seth figures.

"Dammit, I know there's something I can do!" Seth yells, putting his hair back with both hands. "You won't be seeing me anymore, Dean. And I can't bear with the fact that you hate me."

"Y'know, Seth, that's the problem with you," Dean says quickly. "You think everything revolves around you."

"Do you, though?" Dean raises his eyebrows at that, he's surely taken by surprise. Seth head is held high when he tries again, "Do you hate me?"

Dean doesn't mutter a single word but his eyes tell everything he's not saying. Seth knows him. He can see the real him, right here, standing in front of him. Falling apart just like Seth. Why won't he say it? Why won't he admit it? Why?

"I never hated you," Seth starts. "I kno--I know it sounds idiotic, especially coming from me, but it's the truth, Dean. I never hated you. If anything, I never stopped _loving_ you." 

//

It comes crashing down ono him like tons of bricks. Seth doesn't stutter. He doesn't move. He's telling the truth, he's determined and firm, and Dean isn't blind to it, he knows Seth more than both of them want to admit.

And Dean hates it. He hates the whole situation so fucking much.

"Fuck you," Seth steps back, but he doesn't show signs of wanting to walk away. Dean starts pacing around the bathroom frantically, helplessly, _hopelessly_. "I waited for you, you motherfucker!"

Seth's taken aback, again, and he's upset. The words feel like punches and _it serves him right._ Dean won't lie, he's always thought about this moment, that for sure it'd come, and he'd always hoped that he'd tell Seth that he waited for him.

He waited for him to appear on his doorstep to say he's sorry. To tell him that he deeply regrets it. To tell him that he still loves him despite everything. That everything they'd gone through was real, that everything he felt was _real_. But Dean was too selfish, wasn't he? He was asking for too much for being Seth Rollins.

"What..."

Dean grimmaces. It hurts. It still hurts like hell; sometimes he sits and he pretends it isn't painful, but he can't stand there in front of Seth in the middle of an empty bathroom of some bar downtown and pretend everything's fine. He just can't, not anymore.

"I waited for you," he repeats, his voice cracking a bit; Dean's successful in not letting crack entirely, luckily. "I waited for you to tell me this for so long, Seth. I waited for you to say you're sorry for two years," he shows two fingers, as he steps closer to Seth, "two fucking long years."

Seth shakes his head, unsure of what to say, "I'm—I'm sorry."

"I know," Dean chuckles, "I know you're sorry. Too bad it's too late now," he says, stepping back slowly.

"What—no, it can't—

Dean leaves the bathroom, with Seth standing there looking he's lost his way, and finds Roman talking with the bartender. It doesn't take the Samoan too long to notice him. Dean stops in his track, takes a brief look at him and Roman sighs—he knew it. Somehow, he knew Seth was going to be here and he wanted this to happen. But Dean doesn't hate him for that, as a matter of fact, he thanks him for that. Chapter half-way closed, seemingly.

Then, Dean walks away from the bar.


	2. i'll be the one you run, you run to

Seth doesn't plan to sleep that night.

It's as soon as Dean disappears from the door that he decides to follow him, but once his train of thoughts catches up with him, Dean is long gone. Roman stands from where he was sitting and talking to the bartender, but Seth doesn't have the courage to look back. He runs away, as usual.

His hotel room is empty, he notices--he had thought of Dean being here. He had thought of Dean pacing around, because the man can't stay still to save his life, and maybe poke around a little bit, and Seth wouldn't mind. He would find the bed and sit there, and then he'd look at Seth dead in the eye and ask him, without further ado, why they were here.

That's what he'd expected, though.

And Seth would've answered him, because there are so many things he wants to tell him. There are so many things that were left unsaid before their match at Battleground and Seth knows he'd had many chances to not screw it up in front of millons of people, but he's Seth Rollins and he's prone to fucking up anyway.

Seth didn't have the chance to tell him how much he misses him.

How much he wants to hold Dean's hand on his chest, so he can hear his heartbeat when he says he's sorry over and over, and see how much he means it.

How much he wants to feel him, skin to skin, and whisper him goodnight afterwards.

How much he wants to wake up the next morning with an arm strapped around his body, holding him, with nowhere to escape. How much he wants to smile at him lazily while they're in bed and tell him 'good morning'.

Seth wants so many things, yet he's here, sitting on his bed staring at his cellphone. He thinks of many texts to send Dean but he knows he won't reply. With Dean, it's always face-to-face or nothing.

With a deep breath, Seth closes the application and stands on his feet.

//

Roman leaves him one too many voice messages.

Dean doesn't bother to reply, he tosses the phone on top of his bag and paces around the room.

He is on the edge of freaking out and that's all Seth's fault.

Seth shouldn't have showed his face around here, he shouldn't--he shouldn't have even talked to him, if anything. Now his head is nothing but a mess of thoughts and impure desires if you will, and Dean doesn't know whether to call someone to burn _everything_ off or call him to end this one and for all.

He knows the second choice will only call for disaster, but blame Seth, because Dean's convinced that if he hadn't showed up, he'd be having fun with Roman and not avoiding him.

That's sad, to be quite honest.

Dean finishes pacing, takes a deep breath and sits on the edge of the bed. He taps his foot relentlessly, like he can't contain it, like there's so much stress inside of him that will burn him out in seconds. He needs to calm himself down, but only Roman knows how to do that.

Then, there's a knock at the door and he impulsively opens it without asking who's on the other side.

He should have.

Dean's heart is suddenly on his throat, his hand holding the doorknob strongly. There's a small space separating him from the guy he wants both fuck him against the wall and to punch in the face.

"What?" it's a demand, a desperate demand, because he wants him out of here before he makes a mistake.

Maybe the best mistake.

Seth scoffs, "I don't even know."

Dean raises his eyebrows, strengthen the hand on the doorknob; he knows the minute he lets it go, he'll cause troubles. "Then, goodbye," he closes the door but Seth stops mid-way with his foot, and Dean's about to ask again when he drops the bomb.

"I miss you."

Dean presses his lips and wonders briefly if Seth can hear his heart hammering against his chest. For the first time, he's speechless and there's a flash of contentment on Seth's eyes, and a bit of a smile that really bothers him. Dean lets the door go, wondering briefly if he can really _do_ this, whatever the hell that's supposed to mean.

"Dean--

"Fuck you," is all Dean can say.

"All right," Seth makes his way inside the room slowly, closing the door behind him. Dean steps away, tries to keep distance. "Listen to me. Just for once."

Dean sits on the edge of the bed, looks at him dead in the eye. "Why should I even listen to you?"

"I don't deserve it, I know," Seth lets out a sigh and leans on the door. "But what I said was the truth. I miss you. I miss you so much."

Why? Why is he still doing this? Why is he still trying to get back when he already ran away from him? Wasn't 2014 enough for him? Wasn't the recent feud enough for him to break Dean to pieces, over and over and over?

"'S too late," his voice cracks some and it's hateful.

It hurts. And if it hurts, it means something, Dean figures.

"I know, I know," Seth walks to him, much to Dean's chagrin and it's because Seth's lack of personal space really pisses him off, and even when he kneels right in the middle of his legs Dean doesn't stop him. Dean's known for highly questioning the veracity of Seth's actions, but this was too intimate and he knows Seth enough that if he's doing this, then it _means_ something; and that's what scares Dean the most. "I fucked up--

"Big time," Dean reminds him.

Seth nods, "yes, yes," he says. "I fucked up _big time_ ," he repeats, looking at him, dead in the eye--they're almost nose to nose and there's something on Seth's lips, the way they move, they remind him of moments in the past, when everything was easier. Part of Dean wants to headbutt him, but another part of him wants to kiss him, hard, until they bleed. "But nothing, _nothing_ ever compares to the way I fucked up with you. What I had with you--that was... that was everything. It was everything I got. And I fucked up because I felt like I didn't deserve it. I tend to run away when things get, like, great, and it's no excuse, I know, but--

It takes him lots of self-control not to kiss Seth fuckin' Rollins in the mouth.

"I'm sorry, I really am," Seth takes his hand and places on top of his heart, it beats as hard as his heart. "I need you hear it and believe me, please, I--

Dean moves quickly and cups Seth's cheeks with his hands, kissing Seth's lips hard. Seth's surprised at first, but soon adjusts himself to the kiss, strapping an arm around his neck and bringing him closer as they stand up in sync; Dean wraps his arms around his torso, holds him impossibly closer, feeling his skin down his tight t-shirt. A moan suddenly escapes Seth's lips and Dean stops, leans back. Seth's quick to realize about Dean hesitating and taking distance from him, and he tries to hold him in his place but Dean keeps on refraining until he's too far away from Seth.

"Wait, no--

"I can't--

"No, no, no, no," despite Seth's insistence, Dean steps away and it's as soon as he lets Seth go that he feels empty, like he's just let go the most important piece of his life. "Dean, listen--

He can't. He can't listen to Seth anymore, it's painful. It's... hurtful.

"Stay away, Seth," Dean looks at him dead in the eye and points a finger at him to save distance, but it's Seth and, of course, he doesn't know the meaning of personal space. "Seth, I'm telling you."

"I know you're scared."

"Scared?" he questions, "do you think I'm-- _scared_?" it makes Seth stops in his tracks, two steps away from him and Dean is half-thankful for that. "Scared doesn't even start to cover it!"

"Dean..."

Dean starts pacing, nervously, "you were all I had, Seth," he stops, looks at Seth, watches his body trembles in fear or in whatever the fuck he's feeling; he can barely connects with his own feelings, he can't for the life of him decode what _Seth_ of all people is feeling. "You were everything to me."

"Were?" Seth asks, saddening eyes watering.

"Yes, were! Fucking past tense, Seth!" _wait no, no, that's not--that's not what I mean._

His head is a fucking mess.

Seth shivers, steps back continously until his back hits the wall. He's almost at the door. Dean figures he's leaving, his only best and worst thing is leaving him, yet again, like the coward he is. Is he willing to fight again? Why won't he then?

There's a loud silence. There's a lot in between, a lot of communicating by only looking at each other in the eyes, though nobody says anything for a few minutes. Seth is scared, Dean knows now, and it's OK because Dean is fucking scared too. He's fucking scared of losing him again. It's better and it hurts less if he doesn't have anything to lose in the first place.

"Oh," Seth says after a moment, so disappoingly that it only causes Dean hate himself even more so. "I'm... I'm sorry."

Dean closes his eyes, "wait, Seth--"

"No, no, please, don't make it worse than it is," he states, his brown eyes showing the sadness, the disappointment, so many emotions in between that it's too much for Dean to cope. This is bad. This is not how he wanted it to go, ever since he let Seth in. "Just... I just came to say I miss you and I did, and--

A tear falls down his cheek. Dean didn't know he could hate himself more.

"Seth, I'm--

"No, you're not, and it's OK," he cuts Dean off with the saddest smile, "it's my fault anyway," he scoffs, letting out the most bitter laugh he's ever heard come out of Seth's mouth and God, he'd heard a lot of those. "It was my fault from the beginning and I thought I could fix it. I'm dumb--like, I'm an asshole."

"Seth."

They look at each other in silence. A minute or two passes, Seth silently opens the door behind his back and seems to be ready to leave, to run away one more time instead of fighting for him.

He then sighs, like... like he gives up? "Bye, Dean," is the last thing he's heard from him, before he runs away.

Dean is not even able to ponder on it, when Roman appears with a frown. The man walks in, watches around like an important situation just had happened.

"Are you OK?" he asks. "What was Seth doing here?"

Dean sighs, "I don't know, man."

Roman closes the door and then crosses his his arms on his chest, seriously, "why did he travel from the other side of the city to see you?"

"What?"

"We've been talking lately, I know where he's staying," Roman shrugs, "he wants to change, Dean. For the better."

Dean sits back on the edge of the bed. "He wants to change for the better?" he repeats and Roman's quick to nod, "I don't know if you've been watching TV the last couple of weeks but what he said didn't make him look like he wants to change... for the better."

"He's just doing what his character is expected to do," Roman states, sitting next to Dean. "And if he doesn't have you, then, who does he have?"

"You?"

Roman shrugs again, "maybe. But he wants you," Roman never lies. He'd never lie to Dean so it means something. And this is what's all about, right? That it means something, that it hurts, that it makes him feel like he's in heaven--like the kiss--that it's everything, that it's bad and good at the same time. That's living, and that's all he feels with Seth. 

He feels like he lives when he's with Seth.

"He wants you, because you're all he's got now," the Samoan follows, "but you're now drafted to different shows," fuck, the draft. The draft wasn't on his mind until now. "How do you feel about that, by the way? We're not on the same show anymore--

Maybe Seth's all he's got now. Maybe Dean wants him too.

Maybe, deeply, truly. _Maybe_.

"Go," Roman demands and Dean turns to him. "Fucking go or I'll spear your ass out of the window."

Dean runs to the stairs, doesn't bother to wait for the slow elevator to look for him. He's out of the door in matters of seconds, feeling the night's breeze as soon as he's out of the hotel. But Seth--

Seth is right in front of him, ready to take a cab. His brown eyes are wide open, his tears are wiped away from his cheeks. He's not disappointed anymore, or sad. He's almost... content.

"Fine, Seth," Dean's aware of him trembling, but he's got to do this. "You win."

Seth shakes his head and Dean sees that he hadn't let the cab's door go. "What? What are you talking about?"

"I'm tired," Dean says, ready for what comes next. "I'm tired of having to let you go every single damn time."

"What--

"You heard me, don't make me repeat things twice," he declares, refraining himself from pacing around the entrance door of the hotel, which at this point, he could walk the entire block. Seth nods, lets the door go and even walks up to him, which causes Dean to sigh contently. "I'm tired, man. So if you really want to do this, you have to promise me that you will stop running away--that you'll stop running away from me. From us--

Seth's suddenly on his face, kissing him, devouring him; he's standing in tip-toes and his hands are cupping both of Dean's cheeks strongly, keeping him still. Dean wraps his arms around him again and this time, it feels like home. It feels like every single piece of him had molded to Seth's, and everything is a finished puzzle.

"I'm sorry--

"No more sorry," Dean demands against his mouth, kissing him once again, "I just want you to stop--

"Running away," Seth finishes for him, leaning back. He smiles when Dean wants to kiss him again, but Seth leans further; it means something, it means everything. "I'll stop. OK? I'll fucking stop."

Dean smirks, to hide the biggest smile of his life because he's scared yet. He's scared that one day he'll wake up and Seth won't be there for him to hold him. But he needs to live the present. He really needs to because he's tired. 

He's tired of reaching out. Of running away, too. This time, he'll indulge himself.

Maybe, _maybe_ this time Seth will stay.

//

Seth's happy. He's so happy, and if it can't be shown in the way he kisses Dean, devours him, holds him impossibly closer, he doesn't know what else to do.

This time, he'll stay. He'll stop running away.

This means something and he can't screw this up.

"Fucking finally!" a voice chimes in loudly, and both men stop kissing, laughing uncontrollably. "I've been waiting for two minutes in which you two had been kissing. Don't think it's enough?"

Dean looks at Seth. "Hm, I don't know, is it enough, Seth?"

"It's never enough," Seth smirks. 

Dean waggles his eyebrows, leaving a hard kiss on his neck.

"Guys, I'm still here and I demand respect," says Roman, "I don't want you two having sex in the same room as me like old times."

"Roman!" Seth exclaims embarrased.

Dean's not embarrased at all, of course, and his comment, "can't promise anything," only infuriates Seth more.

"Dean!"

"What? You're mine now," Dean declares, "there's nothing I can promise."

Seth's so thankful he can hear that. He's so lucky and he's so happy that he doesn't control what he says next.

"I love you."

His heartbeats are uncontrollable. But there's something on Dean's pair of light-blue eyes that calms down. They're so peaceful. They're staring at him like he's the most amazing thing he's ever seen and even after he'd confessed, they look exactly the same. It makes Seth smile instead of freak out.

"I love you too," Dean says, smirking, and Seth has to refrain himself from screaming, "but you probably knew that."

Deep inside, yeah, but he doesn't comment on it. He simply lets himself be kissed, yet one more time, as Roman's sarcastic claps make them both laughs.

"Let's watch a movie and please, don't ignore my presence," Roman says after a while.

Dean nods and Seth's not even able to answer when he picks him up and starts carrying him over the shoulder. "Fuck--Dean! Put me down!"

"Shut up, princess."

"Don't call me princess!" _because he won't stop smiling._

Much to Roman's chagrin, they don't stop kissing all night.

///

**Author's Note:**

> i'm at ambrllns on tumblr screaming about kane and my boys, so go there and tell me how bad it is!!!


End file.
